


Baby Doll

by literallywhat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Forced Starvation, Mentions of Violence, Minor and Major Character Deaths, Rape/Non-con Elements, Referenced Sex, Severe Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide, finn is obviously crazy, im v sorry, just a lot of trigger warnings, no happy ending, raven is already dead, trigger warning, unrealistic police force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:51:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7555471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literallywhat/pseuds/literallywhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The room was dark. It was always dark. Very cold, so it must've been winter. It gets really hot in the summer. I was sitting on the ice-cold cement floor when my stomach started yelling at me. I gasped, and I continued to punch myself in the stomach until it quieted down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Doll

The room was dark. It was always dark. Very cold, so it must've been winter. It gets really hot in the summer. I was sitting on the ice-cold cement floor when my stomach started yelling at me. I gasped, and I continued to punch myself in the stomach until it quieted down.

"You can't get us in trouble." I whispered to the middle of my body. "Not again..."

I was fed sporadically...whenever He felt like feeding me. I resorted to eating the skin on my body and my nails when the hunger became too much to bear. I think one of the reasons why He deprived me of food was so that I couldn't get my period anymore. So then He could fuck me with no protection, and I wouldn't become a little dolly with a protruding stomach. And so He wouldn't have to take care of another creature. Thirst was another issue. Again, I would be allowed water whenever He pleased. I began pouring little bits of water into the corner of my room, so that whenever I got really thirsty I could drink it.

I had a dirty, white dress on, and bandages all over my body. He always got mad at me when I ate my skin. That's why I had lashes all over my back. I was His Perfect Porcelain Doll, and I better not fuck it up. So why did He leave scars on my back? I was too afraid to ask. It didn't matter anyway.

Sometimes if I was a good fuck toy, He'd let me eat His cum. I don't know if He knows this, but I hate the taste of cum...

I saw a square of light; I squinted and covered my eyes. Then heavy steps made their way down old, wooden stairs. I could have ran out, but I was too weak...and I didn't want to. Then the door closed, and He was in front of me. He turned on the little overhead light that I was forbidden to touch. My eyes burned. I looked around, trying to get used to the pain, when I remembered Raven. Raven was His previous doll. I was told I have to live up to her. She sat in the corner across from me, and I gave her a shy smile and wave. She didn't know I hated her.

"How's my little Clarke?" His voice was rough. Maybe He has just woken up.

_If I ever get out of here, I'm changing my name._

He kicked me. I didn't respond quick enough. Something popped.

"I'm good, Sir." I smiled up at Him. You could almost see the bad breath cloud escaping from my mouth...I had forgotten what a toothbrush felt like.

"Do you want a bath?"

My eyes lit up...my washed out, colorless eyes...I hadn't had a bath in so long. I felt sticky, I was covered in my own urine and some feces. I always tried to go to a different corner to go to the bathroom, but sometimes I couldn't move, and sometimes I had no control.

"You're lookin' gross. And you got too much hair on ya." He spoke. I was intrigued. Every time He spoke, my world lit up.

But I barely had hair. It was all falling out due to malnutrition. I was, however, covered in lanugo.

He helped me up, since I could barely walk, because of muscle wastage, and walked me to a wooden door. He slid it open, and turned on another light. It was empty aside from the metal bathtub sat against the left wall of the room. This room, however, was much bigger than mine. It was quite cold...colder than my room. I didn't know how I was supposed to take a bath in there. Besides that, I was so excited. I couldn't stop smiling.

He turned the rusty handle, and the cloudy water spewed out unevenly with great force. I let out a surprised gasp when I saw the steam rise. I expected it to be cold. I was ecstatic.

"Go ahead, step in, Baby Doll." Again with that charming voice.

I plunged an entire leg in, craving the warmth. It was a mistake. I screamed once I realized how hot it was. That was also a mistake.

He picked me up, and put my whole body in the tub. The water was hot, the metal was hot. I sniffled to hold back my evil tears, and just at that moment, my whole head went underwater. His strong hand was gripping the back of my knotty hair so tightly. Out of instinct, I was struggling, but I knew that He knew what was best for me.

I opened my eyes under the water. It burned, but I wanted to see something,  _anything_ , before I died.

_What will they call me when they find me? Baby Doll? Clarke? No...those names now belong to-_

I began coughing and wheezing as I met with the crisp air once again. I opened my eyes wide, and He stared into them deeply.

"Oh...my eyes are red." He said.

_Oh...how silly of me...they're not my eyes. They're His. What's mine anymore? Nothing...I wish He was mine, just like I am His._

"I'm sorry, Sir." I looked down, ashamed.

"Did you open them underwater?" He said slowly. My eyes raised to look at His angry face. "What did I tell you about hurting yourself?! When you hurt you, you hurt me!" He spoke with passion. I began crying. Mentally, at least. I haven't cried in forever.

"I'm s-s-" I couldn't stop stuttering.

"Shhh." He stroked my wet face. "Shh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm always here." He was looking into my eyes. What color were his? Too dark to tell...

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted my chapped and bloody lips to meet His smooth and silky...gorgeous lips. Gorgeous from what I remembered...

_He hasn't let me touch them in...God I wish I knew time._

"Don't look so beat up, Clarke." He chuckled at His own joke.

I smiled, not getting it.

"You look like I left you in the attic."

Basement.

"My little dolly..." He shook His head, and pulled a seemingly dirty rag out of His pocket. "Now where'd I put the Goddamn soap..." He looked angry. "Stay here." He got up and I heard His heavy steps run up the stairs.

He told me to stay put, but I had to pee. I didn't want to disobey Him, but I didn't want to ruin His bath. The water got warmer, and I noticed a small sense of relief.

"No, no, no!" I whispered to myself as I realized what I did. I cupped my hands and began drinking the water quickly. As much as I could.

_Just get rid of the evidence._

When I heard His steps again, I stopped moving completely.

"Got it!" I heard His smile as He spoke. Then, He was in front of me. "Ready to be cleaned?"

I nodded, so much excitement present in my face.

And with that, He took His rough, dirty piece of cloth, and ran it over my—His—scabbed body. It hurt...I think. I couldn't really tell what pain was anymore. He ran the cloth over where my two balls of fat used to be--now just bones and scars. He kept comparing me to a porcelain doll...they didn't have balls of fat. I tried to cut them off with a piece of metal I found on the floor. It didn't work. Luckily, when I lost weight, I lost them too. Although, losing weight didn't mean losing the skin too. He cut the extra flaps of skin off of our body,  _I can call it ours right?,_  and He sewed me back together. Hence the other scars on my body.

_Ours! Why do I keep forgetting! Mine, His...ours? What does that even mean anymore?_

As the dirt washed off of me, I felt even more ashamed than I did before. I was covered in bruises, scars, scabs, everything. I ruined myself. I ruined us.

I began crying, but not with tears, just dry sobs.

"Hey, hey. Don't cry." He soothed, and ran a single finger down my cheek. It gave me the chills...I assume it was in a good way. "I know what can make you feel better." He said slowly. I could still smell the cigarettes He had probably smoked that morning. He told me they're bad for you. Why does He do them then?

I used to have a journal. I wrote my worries about Him catching cancer. Of course, the requirements for me owning a thing of such value were that He  _must_  be able to read every single word, and I couldn't use any vulgar language. I can't picture anyone actually  _wanting_  to cuss. It's wrong. He only does it when necessary. And He's allowed to. Once I began expressing my worries about my caretaker, He took it away from me. He said that I was just stressing myself out, and my life should be stress free. When He took it away, I cried for a whole day, but then I got over it. I didn't need material items to make me happy. I was being unreasonably selfish. I kept apologizing to Him for being a little brat, but He only heard me the next morning when He finally came down the stairs to check on me. I hadn't slept. I wanted Him to know I was sorry.

He leaned in and kissed my disgusting lips. I would call them His, or ours, but nothing He owns can be so ugly. His lips were smooth and moist. It made me thirsty. His lips worked swiftly with mine, while I fumbled, trying to be perfect.

_I_ have _to be perfect._

He seemed to be enjoying it, which fueled my desire to make Him happy. We were kissing for about two or three hours...I didn't know how the water was still so warm. His hand slipped into the water. I felt the ripples. When it ticked my stomach, I giggled a little. I felt Him smile, and His kiss became stronger. Suddenly His finger was in my pussy. He said vagina was for everyday use, and pussy was for sex. I didn't understand, but I wasn't going to fight Him on it. He was always right. I really didn't feel anything, I just felt ashamed that I wasn't feeling anything. Eventually He stopped. I didn't want Him to, but He did.

"Mmm." He began as He pulled away from me. "You've been such a good little doll lately." He smiled.

I smiled, I think.

_I'm almost as good as Raven!_

"Good girls get rewarded."

My eyes widened.

_I'm getting rewarded? This is the best day of my life!_

"Here..." He smiled, and pulled an old razor out of his pocket. I think it was His. He was letting me use something of His possession...I was honored.

"H-how do I use this?" I was holding it with shaking hands.

"You remember, don't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Yes, I do...but what happens if I cut myself? On accident." I had to add that in there. I didn't want Him to get the wrong impression.

"Don't." Was His one-worded response.

I heard metal dragging on the concrete floor, and suddenly He pulled up an odd container. I remembered it from before...it was for shaving. But it was so rusty and... _Raven. Raven was here before me...she probably used it first..._

Again, I took that with unsteady hands. I began shaving...it was a weird feeling. It felt good...until I would press too hard, or pick a scab off, maybe cut into a scar...soon the cloudy water was cloudy and bloody.

He was mad.

"I-I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry.." I repeated as I sobbed. I couldn't tell if there were tears running down my face or if it was just water.

"Oh, Baby Doll...you know how you can make it up to me." He gave me a slow smile.

I knew what he meant, but I didn't want to assume. He always told me never to assume.

I looked up at Him with wide eyes—they were dry...I wanted them to be watery. He slapped me harshly.

"If you were a good little dolly, you would know what I mean." He said through His teeth.

That moment was scary...I think the word I used to say was 'intimidating'. It happened like a dream. A lot of everything was like a dream.

I was out of the bathtub, and the cold air punched my naked body. Water was on the floor. My bony knees were on the floor. His pants were on the floor. I was honored He let me do such a thing...but I didn't want to. My jaw hurt, and my mouth was dry. He came, and since I was a good Baby Doll, He came in my mouth. I wanted to throw up. I didn't. I didn't want to disrespect Him. But that wasn't really my choice. I  _can't_  disrespect him.

"You get another reward." He smiled after He finished, and He picked my naked body up, and carried me to my room.

He laid me down, and went upstairs. I was shivering. Cold, wet, and naked. My eyes widened.

_Why is He leaving me?! No...come back...please..._

I sat there, vibrating for about a week...waiting. I was still dripping wet though...

Then I heard a sharp sound of air--I guess it was breath--out of nowhere. All of a sudden, He was running down the stairs. He had a pretty, pretty dress in one hand, all bunched up.

"They're here." He spoke, His eyes wide. I've never seen Him like this.

I gave Him a confused look, but said nothing.

"Not they...one of them. A cop is here...I don't think he has a warrant-"

_What's a warrant?_

"But he's here. Alone...I just saw him pull up. Baby, you gotta stay strong for me, okay?"

"What's going on?" My voice did that shaky thing.

"I've raised you well enough." He spoke. He then dropped the lovely dress to the floor. I watched it fall slowly, as He fell behind it. I looked at Him, confused. He had stabbed Himself in the stomach. He pulled the knife out, and cut both his wrists.

I held His hands and rocked back and fourth. I had never seen Him sleep before, so He must have been really tired. But I felt like something was different about that moment, but I barely had anytime to think about it before I heard heavy steps above me.

I picked up the knife that was covered in blood, and I hid it behind my back. I collapsed to the floor and waited. A cop came down--just one.

_Does anyone know you're here?_

The cop spotted me immediately, and started shouting questions at me. I think he was a cop...I couldn't tell. I cowered as a response, and he soon realized that I  _just couldn't_  walk. He picked me up bridal style--how He promised He'd carry me off into the sunset...if I behaved. I slowly raised my left arm as he went to tell someone where he was. I wasn't going to let him ruin my caretaker's dreams, even if I sometimes didn't agree with them. As I plunged the already used knife into his throat, his eyes went wide and dark, and I fell crashing to the floor seconds before he did. I whined in pain, as I thought he broke a bone of mine. I slowly got onto my knees, and looked into the cops eyes. He looked scared...I needed to put him out of his misery.

You know how hard it is to take a knife out of human flesh, and then put it back in? Very. So instead, I went to the opposite corner and waited until his gurgling subsided. Good thing it was my bathroom corner. I wouldn't want to mess up the rest of my room.

That was the worst day of my life. I had just seen two people die. One that I didn't give a shit about, and the other that was my world. My life...my everything. I began sobbing. Finn was dead.

"Please come back, Sir!" I finally spoke above a whisper since I got there. I stroked His hair softly. "Please...please! I'm your Baby Doll, remember?" My vision was clouded with tears...actually watering for the first time in years. "Com'n! Please!" I squeaked. And I sat there for days, maybe weeks, not moving from the deceased body. Who knows how long it was...I couldn't tell time from the color of my own eyes. I think they were blue...or green...maybe brown? All I know is He used to gawk over my eyes everyday, but the lack of stimulation faded them away, as well as His complements.

"I love you." I whispered into His ear.

Then a thought occurred to me. A thought so terrifying that I froze.

_What's mine is His...He's gone...what am I?_

**Author's Note:**

> i (like some of my other fics) wrote this for a different fandom a while ago, so i just changed the names around. clarke lost all sense of time and everything and that's why she thinks everything is so long when it's not. she also has stockholm syndrome, obviously. raven was the previous victim, but she died (yes, she is kept with clarke so it's a constant reminder that she can be better) (and yeah she's basically a skeleton with a dress on), so then clarke was taken in. of course both girls fought for their lives at first, but they became weak and fell into his trap. also he didn't jump right into being crazy, it took time. he had a process. also if you could leave me feedback that would be super cool. comments and kudos would be really nice, and if you want, you can follow me on tumblr (arrange-me) thanks for reading! i hope i did okay


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